


How Long?

by fusion-ego (Nerd_of_Camelot)



Series: Supervillain AU [5]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Crushes, Nausea, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 23:22:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17569880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/fusion-ego
Summary: " “How long have you been throwing up?” supervillain au bingaverage? If you can make that work that is if not I totally get it "-AnonymousChase is kinda sick. Things happen.





	How Long?

Chase wasn’t known to have a particularly weak or particularly strong stomach―by all accounts his ability to keep things down was underwhelmingly average. And, like most people, when he threw up, he usually threw up once or twice in the span of a few hours and then he was done.

_Typically._

He also typically wasn’t even within the ballpark of being queasy. He could look at all the gore he wanted (though he very rarely  _wanted)_  and only feel the slightest inklings of nausea in steadily increasing amounts. He almost never threw up from it. Just got a little dizzy and didn’t really want to eat anything.

That was what made today… Odd, to say the least.

He sat on the cool tiles of one of the many bathrooms in the Mayor’s compound―thankfully one of the single-toilet types―, leaned over the toilet and saying goodbye to what very little food he’d managed to eat. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in here. Didn’t really care, though, he guessed.

His vision swam with tears, everything spinning around him when he managed to lift his head and attempt to straighten up.

He ignored it.

He was stronger than this.

He rinsed his mouth at the sink, wiping his eyes on his sleeve and taking deep breaths. He looked at himself for a moment. He looked… Pale. Unsteady.

He shook his head and pushed away from the sink, exiting the bathroom so he could seek out his boss. Jack would be worrying about him by now.

The thought of seeing Jack’s not-boyfriend, the Mayor, made his stomach twist again.

It brought back memories of the scene he’d been subject to this morning that had set off his nausea―not that he hadn’t been nauseous  _before_  that, of course. That was just what made him lose his breakfast.

He nearly stumbled as he entered the kitchen, where Jack sat sipping a cup of what appeared to be tea as he scrolled through his Tumblr feed. He caught himself before he could actually fall and settled into the chair opposite his boss.

Jack spared him a glance and a small smile before returning to his scrolling.

Chase just sat there and tried to settle his stomach, closing his eyes and leaning back a bit. It wouldn’t do for him to be nauseated all day. He’d already been puking since six this morning, he’d really like to be done before six tonight.

He still had a couple of hours to pull through.

Everything was nice and calm for a while. Quiet.

It allowed the headache he’d gotten to ebb just a bit.

But then there was noise, a commotion, and his head  _pounded_  at the loudness, stomach jumping into his throat.

He knocked his chair over in his rush to get to the trash can before he threw up again, and promptly did exactly that. The contents of his stomach at this point were little more than watered down acid. It burned. It burned so  _bad_  and when he straightened up and wiped his mouth he found Jack was no longer in the kitchen. It was just… Just Bing and Google.

Google appeared to have been the source of the noise, if the handle in his right hand and the one-handled pan on the floor between his feet were anything to go by.

Google  _also_  appeared to not be too particularly concerned with Chase’s current state as he knelt to pick up his mess.

Bing, on the other hand, was watching him very closely.

Chase felt like he could shrink under the man’s gaze as he made his way to the sink to wash his mouth out.  _Again._

He meandered out of the kitchen as quickly as he could afterwards, but of course fate wouldn’t be that kind to him. Bing followed close behind him.

“How long have you been throwing up?” The Mayor’s henchman asked, and there was genuine worry in his voice.

Chase sighed, choosing not to lie because he could easily be proved wrong by… literally anyone. “Since this morning.”

“And you’re still up moving around?” The note of surprise and mild outrage in Bing’s voice threw him off his game―not that he was exactly  _on_  his game to begin with today.

“Well, yeah.” Chase saw no real reason why he shouldn’t be. He was just  _nauseous,_  after all. “I―“

“No.” Bing cut him off, “Nuh-uh.”

Chase opened his mouth to question that response, only for Bing to grab his arm and tug him toward one of the halls leading away from the kitchen and deeper into the compound.

“Nope,” Bing continued, _“You_  are going to lay down and get some rest.”

Chase protested immediately, stopping and pulling on his arm and being rewarded with his head pounding at the sudden jerk he gave it. “I can take care of myself,” He said, and tried to ignore that Bing wanting him to rest made his heart swell with affection. “I don’t need you t’―”

“Chase.” The other man stressed his name, “I  _can’t_  let you hurt yourself and if you keep up like this you’re going to hurt yourself. What if you pass out?”

“I’m not gonna pass out,” The bar owner protested in spite of the spots dancing in front of his eyes, “I’m fine.”

Bing frowned and released his arm, grabbing him by the face instead and looking into his eyes. Chase’s cheeks heated instantly, because this was  _way too close_  and if Bing so much as  _breathed_  on him he might pass out. Holy shit.  _Holy shit._  His knees began to shake.

“You are not fine.” Bing said slowly. “I won’t ask why you’re blushing, cuz it’s not my business and I’m not that kind of dick, but you were burning up even before you started blushing and you were swaying before I grabbed your face. You  _need_  to lay down, if nothing else.”

“But I―”

“Chase,” Jack’s voice was not one he was expecting, and it seemed like Bing wasn’t expecting it either if the way he stiffened up was anything to go by, “Listen t’ him. You look like yeh feel like shit and I don’t have anythin’ I need yeh to do right now.”

Just like that, Chase sighed and sagged a bit. “… Okay.”

Bing seemed to relax just a little, throwing a glance at Jack as he helped Chase straighten up. “Figures you’re the one who can make him see reason.”

Jack hummed as he moved to walk past them, pausing just long enough to put a hand on Bing’s shoulder and give him a very genuine, “Thank you for trying to take care of him.” before continuing on as if the entire interaction had never happened.

Realizing he now had no choice but to let Bing take him to lay down somewhere, Chase’s head pounded in time with his increasing heartbeat. This was  _not_  what he needed today―one of his crushes actually being nice to him was almost unheard of and… And goddammit stuff like this was what had made him love Stacy so much.

This was a recipe for disaster if he’d ever seen one, but as Bing threw his arm over his shoulder and helped him to a secluded room somewhere in the Mayor’s compound, he found he couldn’t really even be mad. Bing was  _being nice to him,_  was  _worried_  about him. This was all he’d ever wanted, wasn’t it? For one of his crushes to give a shit about him?

Yeah.

Except he didn’t want this to happen too fast, like it had with Stacy. He didn’t want to get too attached too quick and have everything blow up in his face and―

“Chase?” Bing asked as he helped him sit on the bed he’d led him to, “Are you alright?”

Realizing he’d begun to shake, Chase reached a trembling hand up to press against his eyes. Maybe he  _did_  need to rest. He was getting overly emotional and he was pretty sure he was crying a little bit.

“I’m fine.” He punched out, then took a deep breath, “… Maybe you were right. Maybe I do need to take a rest.”

“Feel free,” Bing said, “I can leave if―”

“I’d prefer if yeh didn’t.” Chase admitted, “But yeh can if yeh want.”

He hated that his accent always got thicker when he was upset. Sometimes he could stop it. Most times he couldn’t.

Almost looking a little hesitant, when Chase glanced up, Bing took a seat in the chair next to the bed.

“I’ll stay.” He said softly. “You just rest, okay?”

Chase managed to give him a smile before he maneuvered his body to lay down.

He was asleep, to his chagrin, within a couple of minutes.

…

When he woke up, Bing had passed out with his head on the side of the bed and one hand tangled up with one of his.

He spent the rest of the night watching Bing sleep.


End file.
